Of Peacock's Thighs and Moonlit Balconies
by Gold
Summary: OshiGaku. Set after the boys have graduated from university and gone on to bigger and better things. Atobe gets fed up with the way things are and decides to speed things up—fast.
1. Chapter 1

© 2006 Gold

**Title**: The Blame It On Atobe Series, or In the Name of Love 2014

Otherwise Known As: Of Peacock's Thighs and Moonlit Balconies, Part 1/2

**Author: **Gold  
**Pairings:** Oshitari/Gakuto. Honourable mentions: Oishi/Eiji and not-quite Ohtori/Shishido.  
**Rating:** PG-13, for swear words and gay pairings.  
**Disclaimer: **_Prince of Tennis _is created by Konomi Takeshi. This work is a piece of fanfiction and no part of it is attributed to Konomi-sama or any other entity holding any legal right associated with and arising out of _Prince of Tennis _. It was written purely out of fanservice and it is not to be used for profit or any false association with Konomi-sama or aforesaid entities.  
**Summary:** Set after the boys have graduated from university and gone on to bigger and better things. Atobe gets fed up with the way things are and decides to speed things up—fast.  
**Warning:** I can't write anything short. There's a part 2, and a 3-part sequel coming right up...

* * *

Atobe Keigo dearly loved to throw small, private parties for people he was fond of. This was the part of his social calendar that never came to light in the high-society news and magazines. It listed Christmas lunches, birthday parties, New Year's Day dinners and tennis teas, etc. Three-fourths of the said events were generously hosted by Atobe himself; the rest were those he deemed worthy of being graced by his presence. The guest lists for Atobe's little affairs invariably consisted of the same forty names or part thereof, most of whom had no connections whatsoever with high society. Atobe Keigo's guests occasionally grumbled at the fact that they had never received a single invitation but were instead sent these elaborately designed missives informing them where, when and how to turn up, but they did their level best to attend his parties without any real complaint, because they all rather liked Atobe at least as much as he liked them, though in the manner of proper friends, nobody wanted to show it very much.

Mukahi Gakuto, erstwhile member of Atobe Keigo's favoured and extremely elite inner circle, contemplated the latest lavish soirée with all attention focused on the expansive spread of delicacies. Atobe always had a table that even the privileged occupants of the White House would be envious of. Gakuto generally never knew at least half of what he was eating or drinking, because the names were invariably in a language he didn't understand, but he wasn't altogether sure he needed to know, either—just in case it was peacock's thigh or something equally horrible. So long as it was delicious, edible and digestible, Gakuto had few qualms about not knowing what he was popping into his mouth. He trusted that Atobe was not out to poison him.

Gakuto had just wrapped his tongue around the last spoonful of an absolutely delightful dessert that was a sweet, chilled blend of pumpkin pudding, coconut ice cream and topped off with a bare half-teaspoonful of mashed red beans, when there was a sudden, brief commotion. It erupted in the corner of the ballroom, right where the entrance was. Gakuto's brows furrowed and he wondered briefly if it was Shishido Ryou, who was _late late late_ for this Eve of New Year's Eve party. Or perhaps it was Ohtori Choutarou, lately of the Toho Gakuen School of Music and currently on a one-year exchange at the Paris Conservatoire, whose schedule had been so hectic in the last two years that he was avoiding Shishido Ryou with unusual success. Gakuto swallowed his mouthful of suddenly bitter dessert. Trust Shishido and Ohtori to be such bloody idiots; some people didn't know when they were _bloody_ lucky—

"Oshitari."

Atobe Keigo's voice had a way of carrying all the way across a ballroom the size of a soccer field.

Gakuto's teeth nearly crunched down on the delicate silver spoon that was halfway out of his mouth. He bent his head, bangs falling across his eyes in a casual fashion, and furtively darted a quick glance at the long mirrors opposite him.

"Good evening, Atobe." Oshitari Yuushi's voice was smooth velvet, the strong Kansai accents softened to soothing sensuality by the deep, comforting warmth of his tone.

Across the room, Oshitari and Atobe had dropped their voices to near-indiscernible levels. All that Gakuto could distinguish above the hum of voices and the fancy almost-orchestra playing in the background was the steady, low thrum of Oshitari Yuushi's voice twining musically with Atobe Keigo's confident, well-bred drawl. They seemed to stand in a little world together, Oshitari's dark, blue-black head bent close to Atobe, who relaxed his posture in Oshitari's direction.

Brows knitted together, Gakuto silently dropped the empty bowl and spoon on the tray of a passing waiter.

"Ah, Mukahi-san. Is that good to eat?"

Gakuto glanced up. Oh, it was Seigaku's Oishi Syuuichirou. The saint of Seishun Gakuen, they'd called him mockingly in their youthful, salad days. He had already seen him earlier with Kikumaru Eiji, and they had exchanged some banal greetings before Gakuto had moved on to the far more interesting tables of food. "Huh?" Oishi had never been a very interesting conversationalist and Gakuto let his gaze flit briefly to the long mirrors opposite, where Oshitari Yuushi and Atobe Keigo were still heavily involved in their little tête-à-tête.

"The, um, pumpkin pudding with coconut ice-cream…?"

Gakuto dragged his gaze from the mirrors and restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He had finished every last spoonful of the dessert; wasn't it _obvious_? "Oh. Yeah, it's good." He glanced irritably at Oishi. There had to be _some_ way to get rid of him. "Isn't Kikumaru supposed to be with you?"

Oishi blinked vaguely. "Ah, he's around somewhere." He smiled nervously. "Er, Eiji keeps telling me how much he enjoys working with you..."

It was Gakuto's turn to blink. "Really." To say that he was taken aback was a severe understatement. True, it was kind of flattering to think that Kikumaru thought he was a great colleague, but... Gakuto fished around in his brain frantically for the right words to say—this was a situation where he had to be both honest and… nice. "He's… er… good to work with."

It was reasonably close to the truth anyway. Truth to tell, Gakuto was freaked out by that Kikumaru Eiji's persistent cheerfulness. It did make work much easier and more pleasant because Kikumaru's cheerfulness was seriously infectious, but in Gakuto's humble opinion, it was also utterly insane how that guy could come to work after a fifty-six hour filming session and still be perky on one hour of sleep. _And_ _no coffee_. Inhuman. Freak. Seigaku had always been abnormal, anyway. Maybe their resident mad scientist (who had grown up to become a resident mad doctor) had come up with some special potion over the years…

"Ah, I see Oshitari-san coming over—"

Quick as lightning, Gakuto grabbed a bowl and pushed it into Oishi's hands. "Eat." Gakuto snatched up another bowl and began rapidly shoving spoonfuls of the pumpkin, coconut and red bean dessert into his mouth and swallowing at a thundering speed.

"Eh…"

"It's not poisonous," Gakuto almost snarled through a mouthful of the dessert. Would this idiot hurry up and eat? He didn't want to be left alone with… him. "Eat it and tell me if you like it."

"But you've already told me that it's good…" demurred Oishi, resisting somewhat. He certainly didn't like pumpkin and he had a healthy distaste for coconut-flavoured anything. (Eiji, on the other hand, liked to try anything that could be classified as dessert, even if it was frog-flavoured and garnished with shark blood.)

"Well, what makes you so sure that you'll like it?" Gakuto demanded, not unreasonably.

Oishi looked down doubtfully at the bright orange concoction sitting prettily in the Waterford crystal bowl, topped off with a round white scoop of coconut ice-cream and garnished with a tiny daub of sweetened red beans. "Well…it's more like I guess I know I won't really like it…"

Gakuto pointed a heaping spoonful of the dessert threateningly at Oishi. "Are you questioning my sense of taste?"

Meekly, Oishi dug his spoon into the bowl. Gakuto watched with satisfaction as Oishi's expression changed from dubiousness to faint astonishment, and then to clear pleasure.

"It's delicious!"

"Told ya so." Gakuto preened and wagged his spoon emphatically, conveniently forgetting about the heaped dessert still contained within the spoonful. Bits of pumpkin pudding and coconut ice-cream flew, making artistic little splotches on the polished marble floor.

Oishi's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, dear…"

Someone, at Gakuto's ear, laughed. It was a low laugh, rich with amusement and warmed by a distinct note of fondness.

Oishi broke into a wide smile. "Ah, Oshitari." He looked marginally relieved.

Oshitari Yuushi, still laughing a little, nodded to Oishi. "Oishi. How are you?"

Gakuto was acutely conscious that Yuushi's hair was tickling the side of his face and that Yuushi was very, _very_ close. He could even smell what Yuushi was wearing this evening; it was easily identifiable as Armani, which he had bought for Yuushi early in February, the week before Valentine's Day, as a sort of casual "I-picked-it-up-after-work" gift. Classy, elegant, sensual—a most powerful cologne that was Gakuto's favourite fragrance for Yuushi, although Gakuto would rather die than ever let it on to anyone. Yuushi generally wore it when he was due for a late night out with some extremely intelligent, extremely attractive, extremely available woman who, more likely than not, was some high-flyin' corporate lawyer, top-notch investment banker or budding surgeon.

Gakuto bit his lip, scowling so hard that his eyebrows nearly met over his nose. You could always tell what sort of woman Yuushi was dating from the kind of fragrance he was wearing. Armani or Guerlain for the classy women, Jean-Paul Gaultier for the more vapid, born-with-a-platinum-spoon-in-mouth types, and Calvin Klein for the less worldly kind of women who liked familiar fragrances and hopped on the latest bandwagon of trends obediently. Evidently tonight was the night for a classy woman—

Long, tanned fingers reached out to smooth the furrow between Gakuto's brows. A lean, handsome face with thoughtful eyes hidden behind tinted shades peered into Gakuto's face at very close range. The clever mouth was curved in a warm, amused smile; one eyebrow was arched higher than the other, as if joining the mouth in a secret joke. "Hmm."

Gakuto jumped back quickly, glaring up at Yuushi. He reached up to touch his forehead, as if to wipe away Yuushi's touch. When had Yuushi come from behind to stand so close to him suddenly? And where was that egghead Oishi?

Oshitari quirked his eyebrows further and drew back, holding up his hands. "All right, Gakuto."

Gakuto shifted slightly, keeping his eyes elsewhere—anywhere else, to be exact. He wished Atobe would check the stupid heating system. The temperature was just a little too high for comfort. He could practically fry an egg on his face.

"Where's Oishi?" he growled finally, for lack of something to say, and then tried to bury his face in the crystal bowl. He could have kicked himself twice to the moon and back again—_what_ a moronic thing to say!

Evidently Yuushi didn't realize it, or else he didn't care, or else he was used to it. "With Kikumaru-san over there, by the tray of peacock's thighs. They make a cute couple," Yuushi added, bizarrely sounding like a proud mama hen.

Gakuto's eyes rested on Seigaku's still-Golden Pair. Kikumaru Eiji had popped out of nowhere and was now excitedly chattering to Oishi Syuuichirou, slipping his arm into the curve of the other's arm, bright red hair bobbing vividly next to the dark head. "I get cavities looking at them," Gakuto mumbled without thinking. Then he realized what Yuushi had actually said. "_Peacock's thighs_—"

Yuushi's mouth was straight, but his eyes were laughing very hard indeed, and Gakuto felt a sudden rush of bitter-sweetness. Yuushi had been laughing a lot lately. Laughing too much. Yuushi always laughed a lot when he was happy and in love. Gakuto dug viciously into the pumpkin pudding with coconut ice-cream.

"Atobe's kicking up a fuss about Shishido going AWOL again," said Yuushi pleasantly, picking up a bowl of dessert. "He's getting quite tired of the way Shishido's behaving."

Gakuto let his spoon clink sharply against the crystal bowl. "Who isn't?" Gakuto snapped. "Shishido should be so lucky. He—Ohtori—the two of them—"

Oshitari arched an eyebrow.

"They're just so _stupid_!" Gakuto burst out. "Can't they just stop this whole dumb _I'm-so-scared_ thing?! It's not as if nobody knows! Whole _damned_ Hyoutei knew the day Ohtori begged _kantoku_ to take Shishido back and agreed to give up his place for Shishido!"

Oshitari's eyes were thoughtful. "Perhaps it's more than just that, Gakuto."

Gakuto hunched his shoulders, his mouth twisting bitterly. "Yeah, right. Then they deserve to be apart and I hope that they rot in hell for all eternity for their stupidity and Shishido will wake up one day and find that he's _bald_—"

Oshitari's mobile phone piped up shrilly and unexpectedly, cutting into Gakuto's furious tirade. Oshitari looked apologetic. "Gakuto—"

Gakuto's laughter was sharp and mocking. "Go ahead. Hospital calling. People to save."

Still Oshitari hesitated, looking anxious. "Gakuto—" he said, somewhat helplessly.

"Oh, for God's sake, just answer it!" burst out Gakuto, slamming his empty dessert bowl on the table. He clenched his fists almost desperately.

"Don't leave."

Gakuto thought he heard Yuushi call out behind him.

"I'll come and find you later, Gakuto."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

© 2006 Gold

**Title**: The Blame It On Atobe Series, or In the Name of Love 2014

Otherwise Known As: Of Peacock's Thighs and Moonlit Balconies, Part 2/2

**Author: **Gold  
**Pairings:** Oshitari/Gakuto.  
**Rating:** PG-13.  
**Disclaimer: **_Prince of Tennis _is created by Konomi Takeshi. This work is a piece of fanfiction and no part of it is attributed to Konomi-sama or any other entity holding any legal right associated with and arising out of _Prince of Tennis _. It was written purely out of fanservice and it is not to be used for profit or any false association with Konomi-sama or aforesaid entities.  
**Summary:** Set after the boys have graduated from university and gone on to bigger and better things. Atobe gets fed up with the way things are and decides to speed things up—fast.  
**Notes: **I like writing about Atobe the busybody. That aside, you might want to read this with a mug of your favourite hot drink, while you're curled up somewhere comfortable. Please also prepare toothbrushes and toothpaste. Finally, I record my sincere thanks to _Forrest Gump_, because I decided to mangle a line from it and use it here.

* * *

The balcony was flooded with moonlight.

Gakuto lay on his back on one of the two French-style récamiers that were on opposite ends of the balcony, with one hand across his eyes. All around, it was quiet and peaceful, and the sounds of the lavish dinner party below were, thankfully, muted in the distance.

"Gakuto."

And even in the most peaceful of worlds, there was the occasional annoying gnat.

"I'd like to be alone," Gakuto snapped.

"Of course," said Atobe Keigo smoothly. "Kabaji, leave us."

"_Usu._"

Gakuto knew Atobe of old. He wouldn't desist until he had finished whatever he had come to do. With a sigh, Gakuto uncovered his eyes and sat up wearily. "Look, Atobe. I'd just like to be by myself for a while, okay? I'll come down, I promise." Without waiting for a reply, he lay down again, and this time he turned his back to Atobe.

Atobe narrowed his eyes, studying Gakuto. This one was stubborn and had to handled with kid gloves, although being direct with him was the best way to go. Some things, though, just had to be hit with a sledgehammer, because there was no softer way.

"Gakuto, you're in love with Yuushi."

Gakuto rolled off the récamier and hit the marble floor of the balcony with a heavy thud.

All right, Atobe conceded silently, perhaps he should have used something other than a sledgehammer.

* * *

Oshitari snapped the lid of his mobile phone shut and turned around.

"Good grief, Atobe."

Atobe Keigo, looking somewhat put out, had just stepped out from a room along the corridor and Oshitari had nearly walked into him. "Oh, it's you."

Oshitari arched an eyebrow. "Yes, it's me, one of your invited guests. My name is Oshitari Yuushi, in case you've forgotten. Also, we used to be classmates at Hyoutei. You know Hyoutei? That elite school—"

Atobe glared hard at him. "You think this is funny? I'm still not going to forgive you for not getting your sister to ship Shishido here _pronto_. Do you know just how many of my parties he's missed?!"

Oshitari shrugged. "Well, she's _my_ sister, and she likes having Shishido around to torture. She says it's twice as fun as torturing her husband." His older sister had married Shishido's older brother last spring, and Oshitari was still getting a kick out of Shishido's dismay. The fact that Shishido Ryou was trying (successfully) to avoid Ohtori Choutarou by skipping all of Atobe's little gatherings was a problem for Atobe, who took every absence as an insult. For Oshitari, though, getting Shishido to attend Atobe's parties didn't rank very high on his list of priorities in life.

Atobe deepened the intensity of his glare.

"You're not on Shishido's side, are you?" asked Oshitari, feigning surprise.

"Stop that," snapped Atobe. "Did you just break up with your ex-girlfriend?"

Oshitari paused, his eyes narrowing. "Some things just aren't done, Atobe," he said coldly. "I wouldn't have taken you for the sort of person who likes eavesdropping on other people's telephone conversations. Now if you'll excuse me, I—"

Instead of expressing some semblance of apology, Atobe shot him a glance that could have fried him alive. "Excuse you? Not a chance." Without further ado, he grabbed Oshitari by the arm and threw open the doors of the nearest room. "Inside."

Oshitari found himself on the other side of two massive oak doors before he could protest. "All right, Atobe." The best way to deal with a rampaging Atobe was to let him rant and rave until he had cooled down. "What's with all this subterfuge and cloak-and-dagger? If this has anything more to do with Shishido and Ohtori, I'm out of here."

Atobe made a brief, imperious gesture with one hand. "It doesn't. Have a seat." He indicated the sideboard. "Also, your choice of poison. Help yourself." He himself was already filling a wine glass with a clear, dark red wine.

"If you say so." Still somewhat irked, Oshitari strode across to the sideboard and uncapped a decanter of his chosen vintage. He tipped a portion of its contents into a wine glass. "This has to be _really_ short, say fifteen seconds, Atobe, because Gakuto's mad at me again, and I have to go back and apologise."

Atobe absently swirled the wine round in his wine glass. "Apologise?"

"Yes. You know, say I'm sorry, tell him I was hauled up here out of the blue by our beloved host, and possibly prostrate myself before him in abject humility. Maybe I'll have to stand in line again to get those limited edition _natto_-filled chocolates so he'll think twice about slamming down the 'phone every time I call him… And if you suggest that I try anything else, you can really go and fly a kite, Atobe. I'm not going to have Gakuto more upset with me than he already is."

Atobe snorted. "You spoil him rotten, Yuushi."

"Nonsense." Oshitari began to look around for a suitable chair. Clearly Atobe was trying to tell him something, but obviously it would be some time before they got to the point. Until then, he needed something really comfortable while he sparred verbally with Atobe.

Atobe arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't spoil him? _Natto_-filled chocolates, forsooth."

Oshitari gingerly settled himself on to the Louis XVI gilt-edged chair just across from Atobe. "Fine. So I spoil Gakuto. But I like doing it. So would you please cut to the chase?"

Atobe shrugged. "Very well, then." He drained his glass before he spoke. "Yuushi, you're an idiot."

"Explain that or you'll need a new nose," returned Oshitari easily and without rancour.

Atobe rolled his eyes. "If you weren't quite so blind, Yuushi, I wouldn't have to call you out in the middle of a party to spell things out to you. Now, what I need to talk to you—" Atobe paused. "Let's see, we need to talk—" He halted again, searching for the right words.

It was Oshitari's turn to raise an eyebrow. Atobe Keigo, rendered speechless? This had to be more serious than he had anticipated.

"Don't look so surprised, Yuushi." Atobe pursed his lips, looking irritated. "Really, there isn't an easy way to talk to you about this." He looked at Oshitari over the rim of his now-empty wine glass. "Now, Yuushi, I'd like to ask you about Gakuto."

Oshitari looked genuinely astonished. "Gakuto?"

"Yes." Atobe put down his wine glass. "I need honest answers, Yuushi. I have a certain idea in mind and I need to confirm it with someone who knows Gakuto as well as you do. How would you describe him?"

Oshitari tilted his head to one side. "Fun, feisty, talkative, has a temper I'd prefer not to get on the wrong side of, very sensitive, my favourite tennis partner, possibly my favourite person in the world—" Oshitari paused. "And there is a reason for this interrogation, Atobe?"

Atobe's brow was wrinkled. "Yes, of course."

"If it's got anything to do with Gakuto, you'd better tell me," said Oshitari, sitting up suddenly. His eyes were narrowed to near slits. "What's going on?"

Atobe leaned back in his chair. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. "Well, you see… Gakuto's in love with you."

Oshitari's glass fell to the floor and shattered.

* * *

The balcony was flooded with moonlight.

Gakuto lay on his back on one of the two French-style récamiers that were on opposite ends of the balcony.

_Gakuto, you're in love with Yuushi._

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

I am _not_ gay.

Just… it was Yuushi.

Tall, dark, handsome, charming, elegant, intelligent, fine brows, clever eyes, straight nose, sensual mouth, heart-stopping smile, velvety voice, sappy, romantic, kind, patient, humorous, fan of chick flicks…

… just Yuushi. Not gay. Yuushi only.

Yuushi, who would queue in the rain for hours to buy him limited-edition chocolates, the kinds filled with _natto_ and laced with edible gold dust.

Yuushi, who would follow him patiently for hours and hours while he flitted through Yokohama's cramped and food-filled Chinatown.

Yuushi, who would obediently try everything he forced upon him, and suffer through upset stomachs for four whole days after.

Yuushi, who thought Gakuto had the prettiest nose he had ever seen, even when it was turned an ugly strawberry pink by the biting cold of the winter season.

Yuushi, whom he spent hours and hours with, everywhere and anywhere, talking and sometimes arguing, but never bored.

Yuushi, whose every girlfriend Gakuto was jealous of—he might as well admit that—because they took up Yuushi's time, and left Gakuto with less.

Yuushi, who was like every girlfriend Gakuto had ever had.

Yuushi, whom he'd liked very, very, very much since the first time he laid eyes on him.

Yuushi, who really couldn't be loved that way by Gakuto, because it would mean that the skies had come crashing down and the earth had opened up below and the mountains had fallen into the sea and the oceans had come rising to drown the earth and all its inhabitants and—

Just _couldn't_.

Gakuto felt strangely calm about it all. Nearly all his break-ups with his ex-girlfriends (and there were many of them) generally involved sobbing and screaming on the girls' parts. It would have been nice to be a girl, Gakuto thought vaguely. Then he could sob and scream too... though that was really girly, and anyway, there was nothing to sob and scream about here. On the other hand, if he'd been a girl, Yuushi would have been his by now. No two ways about _that_, because Yuushi was a friggin' good catch, and he'd have been stupid to let him run off with another girl. And if Yuushi had been a girl, Gakuto would have him eating out of his hand by now, because Yuushi would have been a great girlfriend—and Gakuto wasn't going to let any other guy have Yuushi.

But Gakuto wasn't a girl. He hadn't been made that way. And Yuushi wasn't a girl either, which made everything moot. So things had to be different. Plus, Gakuto didn't really know—it wasn't as if Atobe waltzing in and saying it would magically make him capitulate and proclaim that he _did_ think of Oshitari Yuushi that way, God forbid.

Besides, it wasn't the _yes, I do_ that frightened him. It was the fact that if he took a step forward, he would Most Definitely fall off the edge of the cliff that he was standing on, right through the protective railing that he had been constructing like crazy all this while. And if he fell, he wouldn't be able to climb back up again. No, he would shatter on the rocks below. He liked his view on the safe side of the cliff, thank you very much.

"Gakuto?"

And in this most imperfect of worlds, on the safe side of the cliff, there was always Oshitari Yuushi and their friendship. Below, it was all or nothing, and the odds weighed heavily on the side of nothing. Gakuto much preferred his chances on the safe side of the cliff.

With that in mind, Gakuto did not move. He simply closed his eyes. "Mm," he mumbled incoherently. He hoped Yuushi would take the hint and go away.

There was the sound of someone sighing very softly, and Gakuto could feel Yuushi sink down, right on the edge of the very récamier he was lying on. Gakuto searched his brain for foul words and found about two hundred and thirty of them, in six languages.

"Gakuto... I apologise for leaving you so abruptly just now... Ayumi called."

Ah, Yuushi's current girlfriend. An extremely intelligent, extremely attractive, extremely available woman who was part of some top-notch investment banking team in a foreign bank.

"We... broke up."

Again? Yuushi's super-smart, super-bodacious, super-employed girlfriends always initiated the break-ups. What were they, super idiots?

Yuushi's light chuckle was without mirth. "Yes, again."

Oops. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. Gakuto cracked open an eyelid apologetically. "Oh. Find another one?" He wasn't very good at being tactful, but he didn't like Ayumi anyway. Loud and opinionated and a little bit spoilt. A fashion plate with brains like Isaac Newton and entire outfits from Chanel and all those girly luxury labels. All of Yuushi's girlfriends were like that. Petite, talkative, strong-willed, with big bambi eyes, voluptuous curves and fiery tempers. Yuushi was better off without her. Funny thing was, Yuushi didn't sound too deeply affected by the break-up, which was very strange. Usually break-ups put Yuushi in a dismal mood for weeks on end and Gakuto always tried to be extra nice to get Yuushi back to being his confident, women-magnet self faster, because a moping Yuushi was very un-Yuushi. "I don't like her anyway."

Yuushi just smiled, which made Gakuto feel even stranger.

There was a long silence while Yuushi sat there, smiling thoughtfully down at him. Gakuto fidgeted slightly in the silence. Usually he had a lot to say, and he would even yell at Yuushi as a kind of payback for having left him so abruptly, but tonight the quiet was a bit odd. In fact, it was downright creepy. Plus, Yuushi was looking at him with a gaze that sort of deepened in intensity by the second.

Gakuto's survival instincts kicked in and he sat up in a horrible hurry, nearly banging his nose against Oshitari's. "We'd better go back down," he said quickly and loudly, to fill the empty silence. "I'm sure Atobe's going to want us suddenly and if we're not there, he'll throw a hissy fit and—"

Oshitari's hand closed over Gakuto's, warm and firm, and Gakuto's voice trailed away promptly in a squeak as a sort of sunset pink washed over his features (Gakuto would have died then and there if he had seen his reflection in a mirror).

"I ran into Atobe," said Oshitari finally.

Gakuto glanced at him sharply.

"We've known each other a long time, haven't we, Gakuto?" Oshitari continued conversationally and irrelevantly. He caught Gakuto's wary gaze and held it. "Junior high, high school, university—"

"We didn't go to the same university," pointed out Gakuto shortly, trying to pull his hand away from Oshitari's clasp, and failing utterly. The railing and the cliff—he could _not_ afford to fall through the railing...

Oshitari shrugged. "That's not important." His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "We spent a lot of time together. In fact, we still do."

"I'm your best friend next to Atobe," Gakuto told him flatly. "If we don't spend time together, you can't call us best friends. Yuushi, have you gone soft in your head?"

Oshitari laughed. "That's what I like about you." There was a curious expression in his gaze, which was beginning to go beyond 'thoughtful' and 'intense'. "I like the way you say things. I like the way you say it straight out to me, without trying to be tactful. You _are_ a little temperamental, but I like it. I wouldn't have you any other way, you know."

Gakuto, forgetting about falling off cliffs, was indignant. He had never been so insulted before! "_Temperamental_? I am _not_! Your stupid girlfriends are the spoilt, temperamental ones!"

Oshitari barrelled on as if he hadn't heard Gakuto. "I like to spoil you. I like to stand in the rain for hours to get you those awful _natto-_filled chocolates that you like, and—"

Okay. Drunk. Yuushi was drunk. It was the only reasonable explanation. "You're drunk," announced Gakuto firmly. "Yuushi—"

"—and the adorable way you smile when I surprise you with something—"

Gakuto knew that he needed to take drastic measures. Yuushi was being sappy, and Gakuto's whole face was going to be hot enough to fry bacon _and_ eggs if he didn't stop Yuushi from being sappy and saying things like that! Gakuto took a deep breath. "Sorry, but I have to do this."

Yuushi caught Gakuto's free hand before the slap could land. There was a sudden flash in his eyes that made Gakuto freeze. He knew this look; it was Yuushi when his mental faculties were at their finest, assessing the opponent, calculating his weaknesses and strengths, and then closing in for the kill—all in the space of probably less than two seconds. Gakuto swallowed hard and felt a sense of commiseration for their past opponents; he had always been on the same side as Yuushi before, and had never felt how utterly terrifying it must have been to be on the other side of the net.

Oshitari looked down at Gakuto, who was now very still, and staring up at him with wide, limpid eyes that were just a little bit wild.

_Well, you see… Gakuto's in love with you._

Easy for Atobe to say, Oshitari thought. It wasn't as if he could open his mouth to ask Gakuto. More likely than not, Gakuto would hit him, and he would well and truly have deserved that punch. But Atobe _had_ set him thinking in another direction. Life was like a box of chocolates. If you didn't open it, you would never know what you were going to get.

If Mukahi Gakuto had been a girl, Oshitari Yuushi would most certainly have pursued him fiercely, until Gakuto caved in. However, Gakuto was male through and through, and Oshitari was not interested in males in _that_ way, although like any person with half a grain of aesthetic sense, he appreciated good looks in people from his own gender. The fact that Atobe had set Oshitari thinking about Gakuto in a different sense altogether didn't mean that Oshitari was immediately going to do an about-turn and decide that he was interested in males too. Nor did it mean that Oshitari was going to avoid Gakuto like the plague, ignore him altogether, or take advantage of him. Those were the common reactions of most people in such a situation, but Oshitari Yuushi thought differently. As a matter of fact, he actually felt enormously flattered. Gakuto had _very_ fastidious tastes, after all. Besides, it really wasn't such a bad thing to have Gakuto falling at his feet in worship. Oshitari quite liked the idea. The question was whether he liked that idea enough to push forward with it. He didn't want to play with Gakuto's heart, after all. But first, before he decided on anything, he had something more important to attend to.

"You can let go of my nose now, Gakuto. I'd like to breathe."

Gakuto, who had managed to free one hand, was pinching Oshitari's nose with said hand for all he was worth. "Then stop looking at me like that!"

But he released Oshitari's nose, and Oshitari breathed in and out deeply and gratefully. "Looking at you like what?" he asked courteously, trapping Gakuto's free hand again.

Gakuto shrugged uncomfortably and frowned as he turned his face away. "I don't know. Just—you're creeping me out, Yuushi." He leaned back as far as his trapped hands allowed. "And leggo of my hands, Yuushi."

Oshitari narrowed his eyes. If he let go, Gakuto was bound to run off somewhere. He didn't want that to happen, but then again, he wasn't sure if he wanted to proceed. On the other hand...

"_Yuu_shi!" Gakuto was beginning to look rather angry. "This _isn't_ funny—urk—" Gakuto hitched his breath and his eyes stretched to their widest and roundest ever.

Oshitari cocked his head to one side, eyes soft and dark, and then leaned forward again and calmly pressed a second kiss to the other corner of Gakuto's mouth. Not _on_ the lips, just a little bit to the side. The first touch had been experimental; the second was just for sheer wickedness, because Gakuto looked so funny with that stunned expression on his face. Maybe a third would be nice. Gakuto was temptingly pink-lipped and blushy, and he had lovely skin, most tender and succulent. Oshitari repressed with some difficulty the urge to smack his lips cannibalistically. Instead, he gave Gakuto one of his best and most charming smiles—in fact, the very one that had won him Best Smile 2005 in the Hyoutei Valentine's Day awards in the senior high division of Hyoutei (that year, Atobe won the inaugural crown of the All-Hyoutei Prince of Hearts, which reconciled him a little to the loss of the Best Smile title sash).

"Are you free tonight, Gakuto?"

Gakuto, not surprisingly, looked a little dazed, as if he had just fallen off a cliff. "... wh-what?"

Oshitari smiled, very gently. "I was thinking... a movie? Not a sappy one, I promise. Perhaps a foreign film?" Gakuto liked French films a good deal, and Oshitari firmly believed that nothing could go wrong on a first date that involved a movie.

"Oh," said Gakuto intelligently, still caught by the deep, dark depths that were Yuushi's very beautiful eyes. "Gtfsjk;kl."

Oshitari took that to mean that Gakuto was agreeable. "Good, darling." The term of endearment slipped out easily and Oshitari decided that it was a good sign. "I'm going to borrow Atobe's private cinema and you can pick out anything you want—Gakuto?"

Gakuto had jerked back suddenly. His eyes were gradually losing their glazed look and there was a dawning look of shock in them. "Wh-what did you—what did—what happened?"

Oshitari quirked his eyebrows. "Well, I kissed you. Then I asked you to watch a movie with me, and I called you darling. You didn't object, you know."

"_Kissu_?" Gakuto's voice was rapidly beginning to sound a bit like a high wail.

"Yes, darling." Oshitari grinned. This was both adorable of Gakuto, as well as dreadfully amusing. Getting to call Gakuto 'darling' was an added bonus.

"But I..." Gakuto flailed helplessly, and then seemed to draw himself up like a little thundercloud. "_Yuushi_—mmph"

Oshitari had laid a large and warm hand across a furious Gakuto's mouth. "Let me declare my intentions formally." He cleared his throat. "I, Oshitari Yuushi, hereby state without reservation that I wish to date Mukahi Gakuto. My intentions are wholly honourable and I swear on my mother's life that I am completely sincere." He smiled, taking his hand off Gakuto's mouth. "I mean it, Gakuto. What do you think?"

Gakuto clamped his gaping jaw shut and took a deep breath of air. "Fine." Yuushi had already sworn it on his mother's life, for goodness' sake. Gakuto lifted his chin, his mouth set. "But if this doesn't work out, I'm _never _going to speak to you again, Oshitari Yuushi!"

"As you wish." Laughter bubbled from Oshitari. Somehow, he had a feeling that just because Gakuto had threatened that, everything was going to work out after all. Still laughing, he stood up, pulling Gakuto to his feet. "Come on, darling."

"Huh? Where are we going? –And would you please stop calling me that?!"

"Well, would you prefer that I call you lambkin? Honeybunch? Sweetheart? Dearest of my heart?" Oshitari watched with amused satisfaction as Gakuto turned pale and gurgled with horror. "Anyway, darling, as I was about to say, we're going to Atobe's private cinema. We can't get there without the assistance of one of those little go-carts and a map. So let's find Atobe."

Atobe's mansion was located on a twenty-acre estate and getting from one part of the mansion to another frequently required the services of Atobe's servants or security team, who drove about the estate in little electronic go-carts that were equipped with Global Positioning Satellite (GPS) systems.

Gakuto found himself following Oshitari meekly as the latter, still holding him by the hand, led the way out of the room.

"Atobe? Yuushi here."

Gakuto dropped his gaze to his and Yuushi's hands, clasped so tightly together. He glanced back up at Yuushi, who was talking animatedly into his mobile phone.

"Yes, we want the use of your private cinema. –Well, tell them you promised the cinema to someone else. They can go skinny-dipping in your pool. –No? Well, then the _onsen_. They can have swimming races inside. –Hey, _you're_ the one who's responsible for this."

Gakuto bit his lip. He didn't know if it would work out. He didn't know where they were headed. One moment, they were near-best friends, and he was hopping mad with Yuushi for one reason or another. Next thing he knew, they were holding hands, Yuushi had "declared intentions", whatever that meant, and they were on their way to what—a first date? That cliff—he'd crashed through the protective railing, and he was falling, falling down to where the rocks waited for him below—

Suddenly he was pulled close, into a warm, tight embrace. It was Yuushi; Gakuto could smell the Armani cologne on him.

"Gakuto."

It was Yuushi's voice, deep and comforting, speaking through Gakuto's hair (Gakuto could feel his hair wave up and down with every breath Yuushi took) and into his ears.

"We're going to take this one step at a time, Gakuto. Little by little. We won't rush. I know you're not sure of this. But let's try. If you feel like you're falling, I want you to know—I'm falling with you, too."

_I'm falling with you, too._

Gakuto wasn't a sap, and there had been many, many times in the past when Oshitari could be so cavity-inducing that Gakuto wanted to squirm. But this time, somehow, it felt different. It was kind of—nice, even. Gakuto's fingers clung on tightly to Yuushi's.

_I'm falling with you, too._

Maybe there was a chance for them after all. At any rate, he was going to try. With Yuushi.

* * *

**Some further author's notes:** Toothbrushes and toothpaste—for the cavities. Gakuto is frequently portrayed in fanon as a temperamental and, uh, bitchy (there's no other term for it, seriously) person—although as fangirls of his, we really really like him and it adds to his endearing qualities. I didn't set out to write him from that point of view, though. Here, I'm trying to show that Gakuto is someone who speaks straight from his mind and heart without hiding what he thinks. Also, he's not very tactful and he's quick-tempered, and equipped with a bit of an acid tongue. So it becomes really easy to describe him as temperamental and bitchy.

Three-part sequel coming up next.


End file.
